


I Still Love Him

by TwistedFate108



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: 40s!Reader, Bucky x 40s!Reader, Confused Bucky, F/M, Feels, Flashbacks, I'm so sorry, Oneshot, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Requested fic, Sad, Song fic, anon requested, lana del rey - Freeform, national anthem, sad bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 16:36:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8631133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedFate108/pseuds/TwistedFate108
Summary: Prompt:  Can you do an imagine using the bit at the end of the “National anthem” video by Lana Del Rey. (It’s a letter Jackie Kennedy wrote after they assassinated JFK). Basically like Bucky is going through the museum to remember somethings and he sees this section about a women and it ends up being his fiancé from the 40s. There’s a video of her talking about Bucky. (The monologue at the end of national anthem is her talking.)





	

The sun was beginning to rapidly set in the nation’s capital; however, the Smithsonian was still teeming with eager tourists. Men, women, and children alike bustled through the museum looking and gaping at the spectacular exhibits and artifacts. They didn’t even bat an eye at the mysterious man in the baseball cap making his way through the crowd, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets. Alert eyes swiftly assessed the surrounding area as he made his way to the exhibit that had opened only a few weeks prior. He hoped it would help spark some memories from his life before Hydra. Before his memories were stolen from him and he was turned into a heartless killing machine.

The man stopped at the enormous display featuring the Howling Commandos. He peered up at the picture stretching across the top of the mannequins that donned the soldier’s old uniforms. He recognized the man in the middle, but only because he was the one he pulled out of the river after the helicarrier crash. His eyes shifted to the man on the blonde’s left. Deep down he knew that the man that wore the navy blue coat and light brown pants was him, but he also knew that that man no longer existed. Vague images of marching in that uniform beside the blonde soldier flickered in his mind, but that was decades ago. Figuring that he would get nothing else from this exhibit he turned away to find something else that could bring him some clarity on who he was.

A thinning in the crowd revealed a huge wall of text with a blown up picture of a man. As he approached the display he realized the picture must be him, or the man he used to be. _Bucky Barnes: 1917-1944._ Spotty images of a train speeding through the snow raced through his mind, glimpses of the blonde man reaching for him, the endless white clouding his vision as the wind whipped around him, the cold snow cradling his battered body. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head to clear the images from his head. They were only fragments, and he didn’t completely understand them, but he knew they were painful. He glanced over the text next to his picture, drinking in as much information as he could. Some pieces were sliding into place, but for the most part nothing made sense. It was as if he was reading about someone else’s life, and maybe he was.

 _“I loved him, I loved him, I loved him.”_ Bucky whipped his head around as he heard the feminine voice. He _knew_ that voice. He didn’t know how he knew that voice, he just knew with every fiber of his being that he _yearned_ and _mourned_ for it.

 _“And I still love him. I love him.”_ He frantically searched for the owner of the sweet voice, but she was nowhere to be found. She was _so_ close; he could hear it so clearly. Finally, he spotted an exhibit not too far from his own. A black and white video was playing, and from the speakers he could hear her voice.

 _“And I remember when I met him, it was so clear that he was the only one for me.”_ The ex-assassin slowly approached the screen, swallowing hard. It was her. She was sitting in a chair with a crumpled handkerchief with her chin propped on her hand, staring off into the distance as she quietly spoke her words with pure love and sorrow.

 _“We both knew it, right away. And as the years went on, things got more difficult -- we were faced with more challenges. I begged him to stay. Try to remember what we had at the beginning.”_ Suddenly, he was launched back to that small apartment in Brooklyn again. The woman in the video now stood in front of him, and he was telling her the fateful words that no loved one wanted to hear, “I ship out tomorrow.” He was dressed to the nines in his formal military wear. The woman’s face was tear streaked and she was shaking.

“Please, James, you can’t go! You can’t leave me here! What about the wedding? You promised me forever, and now you’re being shipped off to die.” she sobbed. Bucky instantly wrapped her up in his arms and kissed the top of her curls.

“I will come back home to you, doll. I promise on my ma’s grave, Y/N.” he said wiping her cheeks free of tears.

 _“Y/N.”_ He gasped as the name brought him back to the present. He opened his eyes to see her staring lovingly at the camera, at _him_.

 _“He was charismatic, magnetic, electric and everybody knew it. When he walked in every woman's head turned, everyone stood up to talk to him. He was like this hybrid, this mix of a man who couldn't contain himself. I always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as him.”_ This time Bucky was brought back to a smoky dance hall. As soon as he walked through the door with Y/N on his arm everyone in the room perked up. He was greeted by many congratulating him on making it into the 107th. Men offered to buy him rounds of drinks or offered smokes. Women tried to ask him for the next dance, but he ignored every one of them. The soldier’s eyes never left Y/N, for she was the only thing that truly mattered. He wanted the night to be special so he could fight for the greater good knowing he loved her as best as he could before he left her.

However, by the end of the night his heart was heavy. After the notes of the last song of the night had faded, he was still swaying back and forth with her in the middle of the empty dance floor. He pulled away when he heard sniffling and looked down at his fiancé with sorrow. She was devastatingly beautiful, and by _God_ he loved this woman. Bucky kissed her forehead and wiped her cheeks yet again.

“Save another dance for me when I come back, doll?” he asked with a dazzling smile.

“I will _always_ save a dance for you, James Buchanan Barnes.” She sniffled but gave a small smile anyways.

 _“And in that way I understood him and I loved him. I loved him, I loved him, I loved him.”_ He was pulled back yet again by Y/N in the video. The audio track had looped back to when he first heard her voice.

 _“And I still love him. I love him.”_ Bucky took a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut. God, he loved her, he _still_ loved her. She was the only thing that made sense in his life back then, and the only thing that was bringing back full on memories for him now. He slowly opened his eyes to scan the text beside her video. He had to bite his flesh hand to keep the sobs from wracking his body. Bucky knew it was a long shot, but it still didn’t keep the searing pain from ripping through his chest. _Y/N Y/L/N: 1918-1947._

“Guess we’ll have to save that dance for another time, doll.” He smiled tearfully at the woman with a far-away look in her eyes on the screen. The video had started over again, but Bucky couldn’t seem to tear himself away. The museum was rapidly clearing out, and they were shutting everything down, but the soldier stayed. _Just one more minute._ He thought as he watched her mouth move with the words. The video wasn’t in color, but Bucky knew she was wearing her favorite shade of red lipstick.

Finally, after seeing the last group of people leave, he knew he would have to tear himself away. It was dangerous to be caught out by himself, even if he was well disguised. With a tip of his cap to the screen he was off before the security guard could make his way over and tell him to leave. Like a ghost, he disappeared out into the cold night, eyes low and hands buried deep in his jacket pockets. He would be back. He couldn’t leave his best gal behind, especially if that was all that was left of her. Bucky gave a small smile and breathed in the chilly air as he looked up at the dark sky. They would be together again.

_“…and I loved him. I loved him, I loved him, I loved him. And I still love him. I love him.”_


End file.
